The proper way to critique New Urbanism
Here's a funny essay that turns Muschamp into Ali G, sorta.
New Urbanism, Mon Amour!...In order to continue my anthropo-logical romp (of the proportions of Jane Goodall and that stuff she did with the apes), I venture into a Evergreen Village real estate office. My trusty girlfriend is by my side (she was also with me at Quiznos subs, but I forgot to mention it). The best way to describe how she is dressed is "ultraslutty." Her belly shirt and thick clown makeup are also for anthropological-romp purposes. I want to further test new urbanism's philosophy of welcoming diversity to their harmonious community. The real estate office, like the ice cream store and coffee shop, is also empty. I see the back of someone's head on the phone. I yell out using hip-hop lingo of my own creation.
"Yo, dawg!"
A well-groomed woman swings her chair around and comes over and stands by a miniature model of the entire Evergreen Village community. She could be described as "snippy." I put out my knuckles with H-A-T-E, so we can touch fists, gesturing even more wildly than white-boy rapper Eminem, as I point to the small houses in the miniature Evergreen Village.
"I want to use my bling-bling to move into a crib in your 'hood!" I state.
"You can take a look at the model next door," she sneers, looking at my "Kill 'Em All" T-shirt, clearly not wanting to speak to me any further. She gives me the big chill treatment and hands me a price list like it was a stinky turd.
"Ain't cha gonna give me a sales spiel?" I ask, wanting her to elaborate on the joys of new urbanism living.
"No! Just look at the models and let me know if you have any questions." She abruptly ends our interaction and goes back into her office.
"Come on, baby, let's go eyeball the place," I tell my faux-slutty girlfriend as I give her a loud slurping French kiss in the middle of the sales office. My point in doing so is to stress the viewpoints of Herbert Muschamp, architecture critic for The New York Times, who uses such words as "controversial" when describing new urbanism: "Should we be optimistic that a solution will be found in the compact communities of the so-called New Urbanists? Appealing to what are essentially nonurban ideas of harmony and conflict avoidance they are as likely to increase social isolation as to overcome it."
...
Strolling (very quickly) to the central core of Evergreen Village, we run across another house for sale. It doesn't look much different from the last place, but they, too, are having an open house. This time, there's a perky real estate agent in a tie to enthusiastically answer any and every question about new urbanism living, boasting that this is the new, hot, up-and-coming area in the South Bay.
"Almost of the people living here are young professionals," he enthusiastically states.
"That's good," I grunt in reply. "Right now, I live in Oakland. I just want to make sure I wont be living next to any of ... them," I slur. "You know who I mean? THEEEEEM!"
The guy in the tie is not sure which ambiguous minority group I'm referring to, so I repeat once again.
"You know ... THEM ... THE CANADIANS," I stress and nod before moving on to the backyard that is almost the size of a carpet sample and about one inch away from the next identical house on either side. The only thing separating the properties is the legendary aforementioned picket fence, low enough to see the goings-on in the next yard.
Since this might be my new home, I poke my head over the fence and take on the role of the fabled wacky next-door neighbor as seen on many a sitcom, including the Tim Allen vehicle Home Improvement.
"Hi, neighbor!" I bark to a man next door doing yard work. I point to one of his gardening tools. "Hey, I might want to borrow some of those when I move in," I exclaim with a cheesy grin. "See ya, neighbor!"
The man doing yard work gives me an I-won't-partake-in-your-potluck-dinners look. I turn to the perky agent.
"How is this area for noise?" I ask.
"You'll find it's very quiet here," he confirms in a perky sort of way.
"Yeah, but what about my noise? I like to mix a lot of hip-hop music late at night."
The man in the tie explains the walls are very soundproof. He explains there's also an apartment in back I can rent out. I tell him I'd like to use it as a crash pad for my homies visiting from the 'hood. I also tell him how I'm going to decorate my front lawn with old furniture and how, being a political activist, I'm going to picket Peet's Coffee due to their well-known and utterly inhumane animal testing of coffee on Russian monkeys. He doesn't have a problem with any of this. Maybe I was all wrong about new urbanism? Maybe it is an ideal, harmonious utopia for all walks of life; yes, all walks of life who can come up with his asking price of $838,000.
* Ray, 11/12/2003 10:16:23 AM
